


snow days

by ikknowplaces



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Middle School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuties, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, Kid Fic, One Shot, Slow Burn, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikknowplaces/pseuds/ikknowplaces
Summary: A small fic showing Jaime and Brienne growing up from kids to adults in three different ages. Inspired by It's Nice To Have A Friend by Taylor Swift.





	1. touch my hand

**Author's Note:**

> i've always wanted to write braime as little kids or embarassing teenagers, and it's nice to have a friend is one of my favorite songs from taylor's new album. like my last drabble, this is also a break from writing the next chapter of [promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20506850/chapters/48666539). the second scene is my favorite ♡
> 
> i hope you'll like this!

_ Light pink sky up on the roof _  
_ Sun sinks down, no curfew _  
_ Twenty questions, we tell the truth _  
_ You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too _  
_ Something gave you the nerve _  
_ To touch my hand _

_ It's nice to have a friend. _

**─**

**8 years old **

Brienne stands outside of the school, on the top of the stairs. Kids run past her, most of them from her grade, blurring figures rushing towards the still line of yellow buses. The older kids are still in school, she knows, learning things like science and poetry. Girls skip down the stairs, giggling, so bright in their colorful winter clothes. Boys chase each other on the pavement, knocking one another to the white ground.

She hugged her best friend Catelyn before, and her quiet sister Lysa too. Ned, even shyer than red-headed Lysa, watched from the side before he gave her a rushed hug. He has an older brother, Brandon, who is in the first year of middle school. His ten years old sister, Lyanna, is one of the prettiest girls she's ever seen, with long brown hair. Every other day she comes to school wearing a blue flower crown, or a blue headband, or blue pins holding her hair aside. The three of them wave at her before they disappear into the bus. 

She lives only ten minutes away, in a two floors house that seems to be too big for just her and her father, with a nice backyard garden. She should be well on her way now, passing the cafe house and that nice book store that smells like old paper, but she has a problem.

She lost her gloves. Somewhen between gym and English, to be exact. There weren't at her seat with her coat after they played dodgeball with Coach Selmy and she hit the most kids on the other team, like always, and Oberyn Martell ran to tackle her with a hug every time. 

They weren't at her drawer during art when she painted a night sky with golden stars and Robert and Ned kept spraying each other with paint, while Cersei- the most beautiful girl in class- drew something overlay pink with her best friend Taena. 

They weren't in her bag either after the bell rang, bringing the end of the day and English class as well. And now she's standing outside, in her light blue coat above a white sweater, her hair tucked behind her ears and under a woolen hat with glitter. 

She stares at her hands, out of the pockets of her coat. Snow falls on them, slowly, lightly. She brings them to her mouth, breathing warmer air that turns into smoke in front of her. It will be a lost cause to get inside the school, for once, because she doesn't want to get back inside alone, and for second, it will take her too much time to search all the classes. Besides, she should go home anyway. Her father will be worried.

Then, there is a voice behind her. "Lost your gloves?" She turns around to see Jaime Lannister, Cersei's twin brother, smiling at her, his blonde curls jumping on his face.

She doesn't know what to make of Jaime. He used to make fun of her, openly and to her face, when she came to King's Landing school at the beginning of the year. He is the tallest boy in their class, and she is as taller than him by half an inch. He used to steal her water bottle and joke that all she wears must be from the boy's section at the store. But then Ronnet broke her favorite gel glitter pen and laughed when she cried, and Jaime pushed him to the floor. And then he saw she is as good as him at soccer and that it makes her laugh when he passes the ball to her, and so the teasing stopped in favor of high fiving or sitting next to her.

But he isn't a friend like Catelyn and Ned are. He doesn't offer her to go to his house for an after school lunch. They don't go to the movies while his mom is shopping, like she does with Catelyn. He barely even eat with her after the second class. 

But he likes her, she thinks. "Yeah." 

"Here, take mine," he takes the glove off his left hand, leaving his right one shiny and golden. Snow covers his red coat, his lions back bag and sports shoes. 

"Thank you," she slips it on her hand as they go down the stairs, feeling the warmth of it already. She looks over her shoulder, to the school's entrance, expecting Cersei to come running by as she always does with her brother, and they get inside that black car that drives them to their giant house, but Cersei doesn't show up.

They pause after the last step. Their ways divide here, she should cross the road- only when the light is green and only after looking twice at the street- and he should continue forward to the other side. 

Jaime turns to her before she can say goodbye, that smile on her face. A few months ago, she would have been afraid of the insult that would follow it. Not anymore. "Want to hang out?" he asks. 

**─**

** 13 years old **

They're in her room, not for the first time. Jaime practically lives her house now, coming after school twice a week to play even more soccer in her back yard or do their homework together before something more fun. She guesses, she should be nervous. About a boy being in her room. She would have been, if it wasn't Jaime. She would have been, if she wasn't so used to Ned. If it was Renly Baratheon, who danced with her at the end of the year dance last summer, she would have been. But he is a year younger than her and likes spending more time with his best friend Loras, and boys are stupid anyway.

She has known Jaime for years, which makes it all easier. They moved from elementary to middle school, though both of them are still in the same building, and there was no immediate, clear message that flashed onto the world once their summer vacation between the sixth and seventh year was over. They lost _ art _ in favor of _ science _ , they lost golden star stickers in favor of _ "behavior points" _ that would be written down to their parents later, not that she got any. They were given extra hours of _ everything _, especially math, that made them leave school at two p.m., instead of noon. They were given more tests, more difficult every year, and more group projects that made her want to groan in pain.

Besides the nightmares of growing up, like covering up a small pimple that decided to pop out in the middle of her cheek with cream, or going- Gods help her- _ bra shopping _ with her dad, because she literally has no one else, people have started to go out with each other. _ As couples. _

Catelyn was the first one to tell her, while they were sitting on her bed, a single bed, now that she has gotten a room for herself. (Brienne would have been fine staying in the same room as her brother forever, she likes to think, but how can she know?) Catelyn got close to her, so close their noses were almost touching. She linked their fingers together, their nails freshly painted and pretty, and swore her to secrecy. She was now dating Ned Stark and she mustn't tell.

She was happy for her best friend. They have known Ned forever. He's a good guy with good grades, never gets into trouble and his family is nice too. She was happy. But also mortified.

It's not like anyone from their class would date her. She isn't ugly, not to the point where she looks at the mirror and wants to hide her face, but she has too many freckles, her eyes could be smaller and of course, she's the tallest girl in class. Cersei, Catelyn, Ashara Dayne, Elia- Oberyn's sister- they are all prettier than her. There are plenty of options for the boys in her class and none of them are her.

Not that she cares, now that Jaime is in her room. They have gone to the rooftop earlier, drinking chocolate milk and looking at the beautiful autumn sunset, pink and orange and yellow. They have returned to her room to watch a superheroes movie and throw popcorn at each other, play spin the bottle although it's just the two of them. Now then have dimmed the lights, only her fairy lights chain shinning above her bed as they sit on the floor, for a game of questions.

It's a simple game, all they have to do is tell the truth, though she has seen a mysterious guy from the other class play it with a killing stare in his eyes, like he's about to hit the person he asked with a pole should they lie to him. She has played it with Catelyn, Lysa and to her slightly fear, Cersei as well, but most of the questions were of the "who do you like?" kind, and her answer is always no one.

They start with easy questions they already know like "what's your favorite color?" - blue for Brienne, red for him, and she doesn't comment that all his family members' favorite color is red- and "if you could eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?" Brienne says pasta, because it's the best food there is, and Jaime says "Salad" because he can turn everything into a salad like chocolate or fruit or pasta, and they fight over it for fifteen minutes before she gives up and admits that _technically_, he's right. 

Then the conversation turns heavier, maybe because of the late hour, or maybe because every conversation they have alone is bound to turn heavy and personal. Jaime rarely opens up about his insecurities. He prefers to hide them under a smirk and a teasing attitude, so she's glad when he decides to share something with her. 

"You used to have a brother, right?" he asks, in that low voice, almost like it's a secret he isn't supposed to talk about.

"Yes," she answers. Galladon drowned in a pool when she was four and he was eight. They used to share a bunk bed and play with toys of knights and dragons together. Every night he would read her a story before bed and draw with her after kindergarten. Her mother left shortly after. The result was uncle Duncan being around a lot, helping her father.

She isn't too sad to talk about it. It has become a fact. "Hello, I'm Brienne, I'm 13 years old, and my brother is dead." If it weren't for pictures and videos, she's not sure if she would have remembered how Galladon looked.

Now it's her turn. "You wanted to come because you didn't want your father to see your High Valyrian test, right?" she asks and Jaime lowers his head.

It's not that he's a bad student. He excels at gym class, he's really good in chemistry and physics, but when it comes to languages like Valyrian or Dothraki, when it comes to writing like Westerosi history or Dornish poetry, he's lost. She's on her fifth paragraph analyzing the story of Jonquil and Florian while he's still struggling with the opening. Words are just harder for him than numbers, but his father won't accept anything less than perfect.

"Yes," he admits, still avoiding her eyes. 

She saw his test, the low grade written in red and circled, but he took one cold, disappointed look at it before he shoved it into his bag. She couldn't even lean towards him and comfort him a little. 

"It's okay, I'm sure he won't be so mad. Maybe he'll forget about it." It's a lame attempt to comfort him, both of them know Tywin will never forget about a test, but perhaps he will be less mad about it. And anyway, test or not, she's glad he's here. 

Jaime lifts his face and looks at her, his green eyes dark by the lack of light, something hopeful about them. Her stomach stirs, a feeling she can't describe bubbling up. She's about to tell him she's happy that he came when he slips his hand into hers, his thumb stroking the inside of her palm, and blush spreads across her face.

**─**

** 22 years old **

They're walking home from the coffee shop. It's a small place, the owner recognizes them by now, after stopping there every day once their classes at Storms University are over. Every day feels like the same, waking up, going to lectures, sending emails and handing in assignments, going for iced coffee and heading to their apartment. Playing soccer for fun in their yard- she still can't believe they have one- in the evenings when they feel like it. But this week is special. Catelyn and Ned are getting married.

It wasn't a surprise to anyone. They have been dating since the first year of middle school, they went to the same high school and now they're even at college together. It was only a matter of time before Ned asked the big question.

If you asked her, it's a little too early for her taste, but it makes sense. Cat has always wanted to get married early and Ned is just that kind of husband material guy. When they were being really insufferable in high school everyone would ask them "So when's the wedding?"

Catelyn can say the same thing about her. Not that she and Jaime should get married, that they were insufferable. They remained good, best friends during middle school, but at the tenth grade her crush on Jaime could no longer be ignored. It was buried under dozens of layers of affection and trust for her best friend, but things were breaking through the surface. 

After a year of pining, staring and looking away, touching in ways that would make strangers absolutely sure they're dating, countless thoughts of "does he like me?" and endless reassuring conversations of "yes, he does" from Cat (and Jaime's little brother Tyrion too, he told her) they finally admitted their feelings towards each other in a scene that wouldn't shame a movie and got together. All has been well since.

"Just admit that you're nervous," he says, for the hundred time.

Her longest friend is getting married in a beautiful place. Dozens of people, family and friend will be there. They booked an excellent band. She's going to wear a sky blue dress and stand next to Lysa, the maid of honor, with the rest of the bridesmaids. 

"I'm not nervous," she says back, tugging at his arm where she wrapped her hand around. 

He snorts and their apartment comes into view. In two hours she and Cat will go to a last fitting of the dress, her second pair of shoes arrived from the store. "Sure, babe," he puts his hand on her back, ignoring how she rolls her eyes, and they get inside the house.


	2. pass me a note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not done with these two, it seems. another two scenes popped in my mind, so i had to write them. this is turning to be a series called "school seasons"! i'll post the next part somewhen during this week, with jaime and brienne at the pool
> 
> god i love these two idiots kids in love. high school au's are my favorites.
> 
> i have to say this is very inspired by me and my best friend from high school. he hated literature, i was very good at that. he was a genius in math, i was a bit less. so, shout out to my bro since 2014.
> 
> i hope you'll like this!

_Video games, you pass me a note_  
_Sleeping in tents_  
_It's nice to have a friend_

_ **─** _

**16 years old.**

Brienne yawns, her head leaned on her fist, elbow against the desk. This must be the most boring lesson ever, her eyes wander around the class. Everyone seems to be falling asleep, or trying not to.

It isn't fair to say, though. Mr. Mormont's lectures about Dothraki cultures are very interesting. He always manages to get the most unwilling kids to participate, even if it's during the first hours of the day. He turns hours of endless talking into something fun, sitting on the edge of his desk or walking between the rows of desks. Soon enough, everyone is taking part in an argument about what would happen should two equally matched Khals meet in the open lands of Essos or getting down to the semantics of how the Dothraki made their clothes. Mr. Mormont is the kind of teacher who passes their spark to others- and it grows on its own.

But this lesson, this hour is _maddening_. Brienne should be paying attention and she knows whatever subject Mr. Mormont is talking about must be important, but she can't get herself to listen.

It's not like she didn't sleep well at night or skipped breakfast. They had a Valyrian poetry test last period, and all of her energy has been drained out on comparing smallfolk and highborn poetry. She counted her pages one last time, six of them, checked her name was written on top and handed it. She walked back to get her phone from her bag and smiled at Jaime all the way, his eyes wide that she finished an hour before time. She squeezed his shoulder and got out of the class.

And now all the adrenaline has gone out and only half the day has passed. Maybe after their break, she will feel better. Get her sugar up on a chocolate bar.

The only person who seems to be engaged in Mr. Mormont's lecture is Daenerys Targaryen, the new girl. She came abroad at the beginning of the year, with silver-blonde hair that is always braided and no trace of any accent.

At first, most of the kids were wary. Daenerys didn't come alone, she has two brothers senior to her and a single mother, with the same silver hair. The weird thing is, her great uncle Aemon has been teaching Westerosi history to 11th-grade students since the school was built.

Missandei and her boyfriend Grey were the first to welcome "the Dragon Queen" into their arms. Turns out Daenerys has three dragon lizards she took from her across-the-sea home, where she worked with exotic animals almost every day. Missandei is a sweet girl with some hidden fire, and her boyfriend is just the same. They sat with Daenerys during lunch and helped her catch on what she missed.

They weren't the only ones. On the first day she arrived, Daenerys was sat next to Daario, another foreign student who came last year. He was mesmerized by her beauty, brought her freshly picked flowers every day and promised her he will paint pictures of her, several times. She seems to be reluctant towards his bold affections, but she still keeps sitting by his side and laughing at his jokes.

A week into her transformation into the school, she even came by Brienne's table while she was having lunch with Catelyn, Ned, Howland Reed, and Jaime. She complimented her on her sparring skills during gym class, and asked if she could teach her some time. Brienne agreed politely and introduced her to her other friends.

Daenerys- Dany- excels at High Valyrian and Dothraki, and she's Mr. Mormont's best student, hence the reason she's the only one listening.

Brienne always sits at the back of the class. There are some classes she wished she could have been in the front like poetry lessons, which she liked, or history lessons when they talk about knights, which are her favorites, because the back rows kids are usually the ones to misbehave and annoy the rest of the class- like Robert Baratheon- but she's too tall to be anywhere but the last row. And so she's sitting next to Tall Jeyne, who is tall but not as tall as her. _Giants unite._

Jaime is always next to her or beside her. Somewhere in her field of sight so she doesn't need to crack her head back to see him. Except for math, she supposes, when she seats behind him, and _he_ has to crack his head around to see her. He's to her left now, at the desk closet to the window, his long-time friend Addam by the corner, looking as bored as she is, his curls so unfairly golden.

He glances at her, catching her eyes and makes a whole show of leaning back in his chair and silently groaning as he wipes his face with his hand. She laughs, half-minded that she was staring at him, and her cheeks warm up. Her friend. Her _best_ friend.

She tears the corner of her notebook page and scribbles _went well?_ in the middle, then looks at Jaime again, moving her eyes between him and her hand, lowered. Their fingers brush as he takes the note from her and she swears she could feel him squeezing her hand a little. _Stop it._

She watches as he unfolds the note, completely unphased by what just happened. He has always liked to tease her. Hs turns to her again and nods, smiling. An _honest_ smile.

"Really?" she whispers and he nods again, so proudly.

She has known for ages that Jaime prefers numbers over letters. They scramble in his mind, as he says, making him struggle in almost all of their written subjects. Languages like High Valyrian and Dothraki are easier for him, but literature and history... not as much.

Their last study session was two days ago, at her house. She had the poetry book open on her lap, and the door as well, as he Father insisted. Leftovers of cookies and snacks were on her table, with glasses of water and soda.

They sat with their legs crossed on her blue covers, reading out each other verses to interpret. More for Jaime than for her. She repeated phrases like imagery, personification, and irony until he analyzed the paragraph correctly, patiently waiting for him to finish his line of thoughts, nodding and telling him to go on.

He snickered when they reached "the Bear and the Maiden Fair", and she knew what that spark in his eyes meant.

"What?" She asked, ready for the jape that rose on the top of his tongue.

"This is a dirty song," he lifted his face to her, barely holding back a laugh.

_What?_ She's used to his jokes, more than often encouraging them or making up her own, but this could not be true. She took the book away from his hand. "This is not a dirty song."

"It is," he laughed as her eyes fluttered on the page, reading the verse again, trying to find what's so obvious to Jaime that she is missing.

She flipped the page to the following paragraphs explaining the smallfolk song. "Oh my Gods. You're right," she covered her mouth with her hand and gazed up to him, still smiling so broadly over a dirty joke. "Some experts claim there are explicit undertones in the song," she read.

Jaime fell back on her pillows, laughing. "This is so funny, how are they allowed to teach us that?"

Her cheeks reddened. "That is horrifying. I am not writing _there may be sexual undertones in the song_." How couldn't she see it? He licked the honey off her-

Jaime's laughter rang inside her room again.

That was the last one out of four of their study sessions. She told him yesterday to calm down or else his brain might go into a shock mode and he'll forget everything, but he still came with his notebook during lunch, with papers sticking out everywhere,  
asking her what does that verse mean, even though he knows. She picked up her tray and left, and he cried out that he hates her and that he'll never spar with her again.

Just before the test began, he stood in front of her, fumbling with his hands like he always does when he's nervous, his eyes shouting help me. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him and yelled at him that everything will be alright.

So she's really glad everything was alright. Now all they have to do is wait for the tests to come back. She wants to jump out of her little chair and smother him, that all of his efforts have paid off.

"Want to celebrate with ice cream?" he leans, whispering.

Her eyes light up and she nods. _Definitely._ The school day could not be over faster.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](https://ikknowplaces.tumblr.com)


End file.
